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better than to withhold
     information or tamper with evidence.
    “How did you get involved in this?” he asked.
    I gave him a condensed version of the entire sequence of events, starting with Emily’s
     appearance in my office. When I finished, he shoved his hands down in his pockets
     and rocked back on his heels. “I suppose you have the whole thing wrapped up,” he
     said, facetiously.
    “Actually, I do,” I said. “Want me to demonstrate?”
    “It’s your show.”
    I took Althea by the hand and returned to Emily’s apartment, the whole group trooping
     after us into Althea’s room. I was beginning to feel a bit like Hercule Poirot, but
     I had to talk my way through this one. I waited until everyone was assembled, including
     the apartment hunters, who lurked at the rear, peering around surreptitiously. Maybe
     she’d be arrested and they could have dibs on this place.
    “Let’s go back to the beginning,” I said. “Emily was convinced that Gerald was killed
     in Althea’s bed, but when I got here, the body was gone and there wasn’t any sign
     that a murder had been committed.
    “I went to Pat’s apartment to use the phone and that’s when Althea showed up with
     her father. Emily had let David take her overnight and she was just being returned.
     Or so they led us to believe. The truth is, David had brought her back earlier. He
     found Gerald’s body and realized how bad things looked for Emily—”
    “Wait a minute,” Dolan said. “What makes you so sure the body was here in the first
     place? You only have Mrs. Culpepper’s word for it, right?”
    “Well, yes, but it turns out to be true.”
    “Where’s your proof?” Dolan asked. I could see that he was interested, but unconvinced.
    My heart did a flip-flop, but I proceeded as if I were sure of myself. Secretly, I
     thought, Shit, why didn’t I verify this first? I didn’t need to make a fool of myself
     publicly.
    I stripped the bed. As before, the sheets were clean as a whistle and the mattress
     looked like it had never been touched, let alone used as target practice by someone
     with a grudge. David flexed his fingers nervously. Emily reached down protectively
     and pulled Althea close.
    I said, “Now, let’s turn the mattress over.”
    The two uniformed officers gave the mattress a tug, lifting and turning it in one
     smooth motion. On the flip side, down in the lower right quadrant was a puncture in
     the ticking and a smear of dark red. “I think if you dig down in there, you’ll find
     the .22 slug that killed him.”
    “But what about the soap powder and the cut in the telephone line?” Pat asked.
    “That was all embellishment,” I said. “David was doing what he could to divert suspicion
     from his ex-wife, so he went through the whole routine. Moved the body, turned the
     mattress, changed the sheets.”
    “Him?” Emily said with surprise, as if she’d never known him to change a sheet in
     his life.
    “Oh sure. I noticed a set was missing from the linen closet and I also knew that Althea
     was feeling anxious about something. He’d sent her next door to play, but she’d seen
     him stripping off the sheets. She was worried she’d be accused of wetting the bed.”
    Althea was looking from face to face. She must have sensed her daddy was still in
     trouble somehow.
    I went on. “David cautioned her not to tell anyone they’d been here and that’s just
     what she did. She told me they hadn’t been here. I thought it was an odd thing to
     say until I realized she’d taken him literally.” I paused, looking at her. “You tried
     to do what your daddy told you, didn’t you?”
    Althea nodded, her mouth beginning to pucker, eyes filling with tears. David swooped
     her up in his arms and hugged her. “You did fine, sweetie. It’s all right.”
    “I’d like to hear the rest of this,” Dolan said.
    “Well, after he moved the body, he started setting up false clues. He bought detergent
     and spilled it on